


Trouble in Valhalla

by MissGuided12



Series: Aethelflaed Does What She Wants [2]
Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Aethelrick, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Parody, Shameless Smut, Soap Opera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:00:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28703295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissGuided12/pseuds/MissGuided12
Summary: This is the sequel to My Price, the silly Aethelrick smut piece I wrote on a whim. It's also a fix-it, sort of, but it's mainly turned into a screwball comedy.In Beamfleot, princess Aethelflaed of Wessex has convinced her lover/captor Erik Thurgilson of sharing her with his brother Sigefrid for a time. When Aethelflaed attempts to alter the terms of their agreement, she learns that even patient Erik has his freaking limits, and she must make amends to regain his affections.
Relationships: Aethelflaed Lady of Mercia/Erik Thurgilson, Aethelflaed Lady of Mercia/Sigefrid Thurgilson, Erik Thurgilson & Sigefrid Thurgilson
Series: Aethelflaed Does What She Wants [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2103996
Comments: 8
Kudos: 3
Collections: I would like that: A Sigefrid Collection





	1. Trouble in Valhalla

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure, I don’t know what the heck I’m writing anymore!!! 
> 
> This is the sequel to My Price, as part of the Aethelflaed Does What She Wants series.
> 
> I started writing this thing as a silly, cathartic joke and now I’ve been pulled into the characters’ dynamics and it’s becoming more of an erotic soap opera that’s also a smutty parody? 
> 
> And it's kind of a fix-it too, in a silly, perverted, lazy sort of way. Whatever the heck this is, here’s part 2! 
> 
> Previously in Part 1: in Beamfleot, Aethelflaed has convinced her lover/captor Erik Thurgilson to have a threesome with his brother Sigefrid, in exchange for escaping with him and becoming his wife. Sigefrid is a good sport, and they do it. That's pretty much all that happens in Part 1, honestly. The plot is fairly thin.

It was easy enough for Aethelflead to convince the two brothers that their arrangement was too good not to be exploited further. She’d promised them both not to push for anymore incestuous boy make out sessions, and had kept her word. They’d settled into a sort of schedule, where Aethelflaed would spend some nights with Sigefrid and the others with Erik, who was mostly relieved to catch a break. 

Erik was her man, obviously. Her love. He’d opened her eyes to a world of experiences, and she thanked her fate for him. He wasn’t soft per se, as much as he was in sync. She loved how he liked to build up intensity, to meet her where she was at, and feed off her energy like he was inside her head. Sex with him was like an intense worship. 

And then Sigefrid just bulldozed his way through her mind, pushing her boundaries in the most trilling, unexpected ways. Her partner in crime. Aethelflaed had yet to reach past the edge of what she was willing to let him do to her. 

She felt that she had achieved a satisfying balance between the two brothers, and thought she might have become the most well humped woman in the land. Erik had made his peace with the arrangement. She was a handful, he’d told her, and he was truly the most selfless, generous man. 

The following night was Erik’s, and he’d escorted Aethelflaed up to his room. He’d brought her parchment, ink and a pen, because he was good like that. 

She kneeled in front of a small table, and playfully started to pen a letter for Aethelred.  
“Dearest, kindest husband,” she began, reading the words out loud for Erik’s benefit. 

Very seriously, Erik kneeled behind her, lifted up her skirts, and made her gasp as he let himself in. She continued, “as I pen this letter, I have been brutally claimed by the cruel warlord Erik Thurgilson.”

Erik rewarded her efforts by slamming his pelvis against her backside, making her moan. “Lord Erik is truly a terrible man. He drags me by my hair… ” she laughed, “fully naked, and he rapes me in his big hall, in front of his men.” Erik chuckled and avenged her calumnies with his hips.

“He dishonors me thusly with his monstrously large member, sometimes twice or trice daily…” 

Erik snorted, and sped up his rhythm. “You witch!” he laughed.

“…and covers me with his fluids. I am, dearest husband, constantly covered from head to toe in Viking baby juice.” 

Erik just lost it, too convulsed to focus. “Your mind is a festering wound, woman!!”

Aethelflaed twisted herself backward to kiss him, leaving blotches of ink on his cheek with her fingers. 

“I pray to our lord Jesus for his protection…” 

Erik resumed his pounding, grunting while she moaned. Aethelflaed braced herself and continued.

“…for I fear that he has already filled me up with a litter of heathens.” She fought to keep her concentration and signed, “Yours truly in god, Aethelflaed.”

She dropped the pen then, leaving a little splatter of ink on the parchment, and abandoned herself to Erik’s cock work. When he felt about to come, he withdrew and spilled his seed all over her backside. 

“Viking baby juice?!!...” he laughed, and she did too, and it took them several minutes before they managed to speak again.

“I wish to send it!!” Aethelflaed cheered, excitedly. 

“Noooo more parchment for you!” Erik teased. 

She pouted, playfully, “Sigefrid would let me…”

Erik turned serious and said, calmly. “Sigefrid would send nothing that diminishes the ransom he can extract from you,” and Aethelflaed felt that he was right. 

“He still wishes to ransom me…” The thought was sobering. She’d felt that she and Sigefrid had been growing closer.

She asked, tentatively, “could we maybe change his mind?”

Erik pinched his lips.

“If we asked him, would he consider keeping me? As your wife?”

“Whose wife, exactly?” Erik asked, cautiously. 

She looked down, sheepish. “Both your wife?…”

Erik’s tone was curt. “I thought we had a plan. An agreement.” He seemed deeply hurt. “You agreed to leave with me. To be MY wife. I fulfilled my end of the bargain. And more.” 

She felt rotten. 

“Are you going back on your word?” he asked, his voice tightening.

Aethelflaed let out a deep sigh. She grabbed Erik’s hand and led him to sit by her on the edge of his bed. 

“Erik… I cannot deny that I enjoy your brother. He’s a wild ride. And I am so grateful that you let me. You are the most incredible man. I do wish to be yours.”

Aethelflaed gathered her thoughts and her courage. “I thought that maybe Sigefrid would be willing not to ransom me if he’s… involved.” She squeezed Erik’s hand. “It would be a better life for us. No betrayal. No running away.”

Erik said nothing.

“And soon enough he would get bored with me...”

Still, Erik said nothing. Eventually, he let out, coldly. “Come. I’m taking you back to the stables,” and Aethelflaed’s heart sank.


	2. An unexpected ally

“It’s your turn again tonight,” Sigefrid mentioned casually to his brother over dinner.

“It is. You can have her if you wish,” Erik shrugged.

“Truly?! Are you tiring of her, brother?”

“I’m just tired.”

“Then I’ll cover for you! Or she’ll bust both our balls.”

Sigefrid found Aethelflaed in her holding cell, her eyes red liked she’d been crying. She saw him, and tears filled up her eyes again. 

“Erik does not wish to see me tonight?” she asked, her voice small. 

Sigefrid felt weird. He’d known her to be wild and fun and willing. This was unchartered. But despite himself, he felt compelled to stay. “He’s tired. You’re just too much for one man!” he chuckled. “I’m to take care of you.”

“Will you sit with me?” she asked, frail as a bird.

“I can do that,” and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him. He asked, curious, “did my brother make you cry?” 

“He did…”

“Should I avenge you?” Sigefrid offered with a grin.

She sobbed, “it’s all my fault. He gave me everything I wanted, and I hurt him.”

“You should stop trying to stick things up his arse…”

She looked down. “Erik has been so kind to share me like he has. And I’m a monster, because instead of being grateful, I would not give you up… I do not deserve him.” 

Sigefrid felt touched by her revelation. He hadn’t realized she’d gotten attached. Just like he had. “If Erik prefers not to share, then we should stop,” he finally said.

“I am not sure he cares anymore…”

“Then he’s blind. Or stupid.”

“He’s not blind…” She sighed. “And he’s not stupid. I’m at fault,” she sobbed again.

Sigefrid let her cry on his shoulder. Once she’d calmed down, he offered, “can I make you feel better?”

Aethelflaed whimpered, “I do not deserve your kindness.”

“I… could punish you.”

His tone raised goosebumps on her arms. She lifted an eyebrow, intrigued.

“I’ve got this big cage in my hall. I could strip you, spank you, and cage you naked for all my warriors to see. To help you get over your guilt,” he grinned.

Aethelflaed felt the blood rush to her cheeks, and an electric twinge between her legs. She let the vivid thoughts materialize in her mind, but then replied, softly, “No. Erik would not want that.”

“He would most definitely not. Little bird, I’m afraid I need to let you go.”

“For Erik,” she nodded.

“For Erik,” he repeated.

“You love him.”

“Of course! He’s practically my wife,” Sigefrid joked.

Aethelflaed figured she had very little left to lose. “What if Erik... took a wife,” she asked, meekly. 

“A wife like… you.” Sigefrid sighed. “You are something! How am I supposed to pay my men?!” He shrugged. “It will be painful to let you go, birdie. Truly. But I’m afraid I have no choice. Your father has agreed on a price.”

“But what if it costs you Erik?”

“Would it?” Sigefrid gave her a stern look. “This was his plan… Would it?”

“I do not know… Not anymore, possibly,” Aethelflaed sighed. “But if Erik wanted to keep me, would you let him?”

“And do what? Lose our army? Raise sheep?!”

“You could rebuild… I know you’ve done it before. You’ve grown strong in Frankia. Without any ransom.” She hammered her point home. “Is my father’s crown more important to you than your own brother’s happiness?”

He sighed. “I’ll speak with Erik. See what he has to say about this.”

“And I will try to regain his affections,” Aethelflaed said, resolute.

Sigefrid gave her an amused look. “And how do you plan to do that?”

She winked. “Beg for his tiny cock?”

“And people think I’m a bad person!” he laughed.


	3. There, I fixed it

“The lady wishes to see you,” Sigefrid informed his brother.

“I thought you took the night,” Erik shrugged.

“She refused me,” Sigefrid said, thinking that was true enough. 

“She did?”

“She has put an end to our arrangement. She asks for you.”

“I do not wish to see her.”

“She insisted. I brought her to your room...” 

“Then send Dagfinn to fetch her and bring her back to the stables,” Erik scorned. 

Sigefrid wasn’t the meddling type, but he cared for Aethelflaed, and thought he could lend the poor thing a hand (no pun intended. Sorry Sig!). “If you’re done with her, then I’ll go grab her for myself. Tie her to my bed, rough her up a bit…”

“I thought she refused you.”

“Who cares? She’s a hostage. Might as well enjoy her before we cash in.”

“Sigefrid…” Erik’s eyes widened. “I’ll go see what she wants.” 

And he rushed upstairs to his bedroom, despite himself. He’d meant to stay mad, he truly had. And now his anger had vanished and he couldn’t stand not to breath the same air, not to know she was safe. His insane, gorgeous, kinky, insatiable Saxon princess. He knocked on the double door, and a small voice answered.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Erik,” he said softly. 

Aethelflaed unbolted the door and opened it slowly. Erik stepped into the room’s obscurity. It was barely lit by a handful of candles. Aethelflaed handed him a cup of mead and, moving gracefully, closed the door behind him. 

She’d asked a servant to braid flowers into her hair, and was dressed only in her shift, which was wet so that it stuck to her body and made it visible through the thin white fabric. Erik missed a breath. She looked stunning, demure, almost tame.

“What’s all this for?” he asked, but she answered by pressing a finger against his lips, gently. 

Aethelflaed had prepared fruit, cheese and bread, which she’d arranged pleasantly on a platter.  
She gestured for Erik to sit on the bed, took off his booths, and started massaging his feet. 

“Lord, may I undress you?” she asked, softly.

“You first. Then me.”

“As you wish.” 

Aethelflaed passed the shift over her head. 

“Turn around,” Erik ordered. “I wish to look at you.”

And she did, barely more than a golden shadow in the candle light. She approached Erik, who grabbed her breasts and brought them to his mouth. She helped undress him, leather and shift first, then she kneeled to pull down his breeches. 

“Would you lie down, lord? On your bed?”

Erik lied on his back, hard for her, but Aethelflaed made him turn flat onto his front. She poured some ointment onto her hands and started massaging his back, his shoulders, his tights, his legs. Erik moaned, abandoning himself to her touch. When he was oiled and relaxed, she sat on his bum and slid her nipples onto his back, kissing his neck, his shoulders. She caressed him with her entire body, letting herself slide up and down against his back.

“I love you, Erik Thurgilson,” Aethelflaed whispered in his ear. 

Under her, Erik flipped onto his back and pulled her onto him, holding her tightly. He pulled her legs apart and inserted himself into her, and she closed her eyes and gasped. 

“You are mine,” he said.

“I am.”

“Mine alone.”

“Yours alone. Except on Sundays?” She faked a serious expression, “I’m God’s alone on Sundays Erik, you know that.” Erik shook his head and kissed her. 

He grabbed her by the hair and growled, “mine alone. Say it.”

“Yours alone!” she gasped. And he pushed himself into her, rhythmically. 

“I’m yours alone! Erik, I am yours!! Yours alone, Erik!!! Yours alone!!” and he rewarded her by doubling in intensity, riding her until she orgasmed. Then she let him out, and finished him with her hands and mouth. 

They laid down, interlaced onto the bed, in silence. Aethelflaed did not dare to move in fear of ending the moment. Finally, Erik spoke.

“Sigefrid tells me that you refused him.”

“I did. We ended our agreement. I am strictly yours.” She added, “if you still want me.”

“I seem to struggle to let you go…” He kissed her head. 

“Erik, I am sorry. You gave me everything that I asked for, and more, and I was most ungrateful.”

“Most ungrateful indeed,” he agreed. He slapped her bum, playfully. 

“I am at your mercy, lord Thurgilson.”

“Then you will become my wife. I command it.”

“I will. Gladly.” She added, “I spoke with Sigefrid…”

“Yes, I thought that was settled.”

“No… About you keeping me.”

“You did!?”

“Yes.”

“Was he angry?!!”

“No. He said he’d speak with you. Find out what you want.”

“Really?!...” 

“Yes… we weren’t sure if you’d take me back.” She added, “or if you’d send me back to the pig’s arse…”

“You know I would never do that...”

Erik winked. “I would have found you a nice nunnery, somewhere up in Nortumbria, so you could use your knees for something else for once!”

“I love nuns!” Aethelflaed cheered. “The uniform…”

He chose to ignore that.

With a bit of convincing, Sigefrid agreed to renounce the ransom so his brother could marry his princess. Alfred was pissed, Aelswith converted to the old gods so she wouldn’t get cut off from her grandchildren, Aethelred choked on a piece of pretzel, or at least that's what Eadith said, and Sigefrid and Erik consolidated their presence in East Anglia and stayed clear of Mercia and Wessex. There was a bit of a power void on the Mercian throne which Aldhelm had to fill up because Aethelflaed insisted she was handling the viking threat with her hands-on management style. Sigefrid and Erik murdered Haesten and Cnut and drank often with Ragnar and Brida and helped Uhtred retake Bebamburg and everything was much, much better because I say so. The End.

Except for the bit when Aethelflaed hooked up with Ragnar, and Brida wanted to rip her eyes out, but then Aethelflaed offered to lend her Erik in exchange, and Erik wished he'd been consulted first, but then he agreed cause he's a nice guy and Brida got pregnant and so it turned out that Ragnar had fertility issues after all, and Brida rubbed it in his face for a while, but then they all got over it and they started having grown up sleepovers with benefits. The ladies made up a song about Erik's potent viking baby juice and sang it non-stop until Ragnar broke down and locked himself in the Dunholm chapel to catch a freaking break, and then Finan, who was visiting, had a word with the ladies about bullying, so the song stopped but then Brida and Aethelflaed just started speaking in Finan's accent, and insisted it's not bullying if it's really more like an homage, and things got much better indeed.


End file.
